I'll Tell You Where You Can Shove Your Pumpkins
by vuarapuung
Summary: An alternate ending to the seventh book, where Harry and Hermione are married, but all is not quite well.


**DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling.**

_A/N: This is an alternate ending to the Deathly Hallows where Harry has chosen Hermione._

**Epilogue**

Autumn seemed to take a long time to come that year. Or so it seemed to the small family that bobbed across the road towards King's Cross Station.

"Mummy!" the little girl wailed. "I want to go to Hogwarts too."

"Rose!" Hermione said hotly. "Honestly! You can't go to Hogwarts until you're eleven, haven't I taught you anything?"

"Come on, give her a break," Harry said. "She's going to miss her brother."

"Well, a fine waste of energy," James said, speaking in that way that reminded Harry how wrong he'd been naming his son after a legendary prankster. "If she put that energy into her studies she wouldn't be failing Ancient Runes."

Harry scowled at the mention of the rigorous studies Hermione had insisted upon putting their children through. Since they'd been old enough to walk she'd been teaching the kids subjects they could do without wands, such as Potions, Muggle Studies and Ancient Runes. This meant that James had started Hogwarts with more O.W.L.s than Harry had when he'd left.

However Rose, unlike James, had not inherited her mother's studious nature. The reason she wanted to go to Hogwarts was to get away from studying.

Somehow this made perfect sense.

Harry decided it best to let Rose have a break from her mother, so he offered to take Rose's hand instead. Hermione glared at him but passed her daughter across to Harry, who took her other hand.

"Don't worry Rosie," he whispered in her ear. "Ignore you're brother. You're just good at different things from him."

Harry watched as his son marched proudly up to the barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten with a smug look on his face that made Harry wonder if Percy was the boy's real father. He disappeared through it without a word to his parents. Hermione soon followed, leaving Harry to push both the trolley and Rose through the barrier with him.

On the other side Harry very soon spotted his best friend Ron Weasley, who was currently running around the platform trying to gather his thirteen children together long enough to make sure he could get the right ones on the train. The year previous Hagrid had been somewhat confused when a five-year-old Willhelmson Weasley tried to get onto the boats instead of his older brother, Mathallus Weasley.

Harry often wondered just how Ron and Luna had gone about naming each of their thirteen children. Well, twelve of them at any rate. They'd just called the thirteenth one Paul. Apparently after twelve children they'd run out of crazy names.

"How's it going?" Harry asked as Ron picked up a seven-year-old in his older brother's robes.

"Fine," Ron quite clearly lied. "The twins are off to Hogwarts this year. Hopefully that means we'll get a bit of peace and quiet for once."

Harry nodded along, wondering which set of twins Ron was talking about. He looked over to where Hermione was talking to Luna Weasley. Hermione looked quite worried.

"Luna's not pregnant again, is she?" Harry asked, fearing the worst.

"Oh, yeah she is," Ron said. "We reckoned with the twins gone the house would be too quiet, so we decided to have more."

Harry knew his friend was lying. What Ron actually meant was, _"Yeah, I thought I'd got the hang of contraceptive charms this time for sure!"_

The bottom line was that after thirteen children Luna was still as insatiable as ever. Harry, who had had to endure repeated bumbling requests from Ron for a threesome, knew this all too well.

"So, when was the last time you and Hermione... you know?" Ron asked, looking carefully at Rose.

"Yeah, that was the last time," Harry confirmed. "Nothing for eight years."

"Bummer," replied Ron, who probably couldn't imagine going eight hours without it.

Harry and Ron wandered over to where Luna was talking and Hermione was looking extremely nervous.

"I'm thinking Peristalsis if it's a boy," Luna said. "I heard that name somewhere, I can't remember where... Anyway, I like Persephone for a girl."

"You'll be godfather, of course?" Ron asked, looking at Harry. Harry had heard Ron ask him this question so many times he just nodded on instinct. Hermione was looking from Ron to Luna as if expecting them to ask her soon to be godmother.

"I was thinking Ginny should be godmother," Luna said. "She's awful nice. And she always seems so sad when I see her."

Harry decided it best not to look directly at Hermione while this was said. She'd never quite gotten over how Harry had dated Ginny in school. Of course, she'd completely ignored Harry's protests that that relationship was never real, totally hormone based and the only time they'd had sex was on Dumbledore's desk after the final battle, and that that was absolutely a one time thing and just two friends comforting each other.

Instead he looked at his young children. He cringed slightly. The union between himself and Hermione had yielded two very unfortunate sets of hair which were beyond all control with normal charms or potions. Poor Rose was unfortunately more hair than girl.

It was then that Ginny picked her moment to arrive, looking every bit as glum as usual.

"Hi," she said in a way that gave Harry the sudden desire to slit his own wrists.

"Hey Ginny, what are you doing here?" Ron asked as if talking to a mental patient.

"Oh, you know, just watching the kids off for Hogwarts," Ginny said sadly. "I'll never get to send my children there."

Maybe she _was_ a mental patient.

"Ginny, if you wanted children so bad then why on earth did you marry Neville?" Hermione asked. Ginny's glum expression was suddenly replaced by one of horror.

"I don't know," she said.

They had all seen the kids off on the train before heading to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch. One problem the Wizarding World seemed to suffer from was an appalling lack of places to eat, so they were forced to go to the Leaky Cauldron, where Ron and Luna's numerous children could be let loose on Diagon Alley while the adults and Rose enjoyed their lunch. This year Ginny came with them, and looked sullen throughout all of lunch before saying her goodbyes.

Ron and Luna soon left in a half-hearted attempt to rally the remaining children. Usually this would mean they got hold of three or four and Aurors would probably bring the rest home later on that evening when they found a couple of redheaded children whacking people across the shins with Beaters' Bats to see if they were infected with Gurglemooks.

So the Potters went home. Hermione had insisted they sell Grimmauld Place and find somewhere more "sensible." They now lived in a three bedroom house just outside London, which had cost Harry a small fortune to obtain (not that he had any shortage of gold). She'd also insisted that they employ only "free" elves and pay them wages. Kreacher had not taken it well...

They had never been able to get all of the blood off of the front porch.

When Harry went to bed that night, he did not try to give his wife a goodnight kiss. He knew better than that. Still, she sat in bed and kept the lights on for a long time while she finished off some paperwork from her office. Hermione had basically fired all the staff in the Department of Control of Magical Creatures, and even on her days off she was still doing paperwork from about six in the morning to eleven at night. It didn't leave much time for Harry.

Harry sighed and rolled away from the light, wondering just how long it would be before she decided that they ought to just buy separate beds. When Rose went to Hogwarts, she probably wouldn't even let him sleep in the same room anymore.

He hated himself for thinking it, but sometimes he doubted his decision to marry Hermione. He'd woken up a few mornings from a particularly pleasant dream to be disappointed when the woman in bed beside him did not have flaming red hair.

But he'd made a commitment to Hermione, and any potential love interests he may have once had were now grown up and in their own committed relationships. Ginny was married to Neville Longbottom, who was a Professor at Hogwarts and certainly capable of giving her everything she needed.

Except, of course, children. Neville had made no secret that he had no desire to have children of his own, given that he spent ten months of the year looking after other peoples' children.

Hermione eventually turned off the light. She didn't say anything as her breathing became steady and she drifted off into sleep. Soon she started to snore. Harry couldn't sleep.

Curiously, at about half past twelve the doorbell rang. Hermione's snoring stop and she gave a loud groan.

"Don't worry, it's just Ginny," Harry said. He had several charms on the house designed to tell him whenever someone got too close to the house. It had taken a lot of work, as initially there had been a loud, siren-like noise that went off every time a car drove past the house or a cat wandered into the back garden. He got out of bed to see what she wanted. Once he was out of the room, he heard Hermione mutter something and the door slammed shut behind him.

He sighed and made his way down the stairs. He opened the door and Ginny was standing there in the same clothes she had been wearing that afternoon.

"Ginny, what's wrong?" Harry asked, feeling genuinely concerned. She looked fairly pale, though Harry was happy to note that her pupils weren't dilated, so she probably wasn't drunk or anything.

"Harry," she whispered. She stepped forward and embraced him, kissing him softly.

"Ginny? What are you doing?" he asked, trying to push him off of her.

"I need you, Harry," Ginny replied, not pulling away despite Harry's efforts. "God, we've made so many stupid mistakes. I married Neville; you married Hermione. Did we honestly think we could kid ourselves?"

"Ginny, that exactly why we can't do anything like this. My wife is asleep upstairs in bed."

"Fuck her," Ginny whispered harshly. "Or, more to the point, _ fuck me_."

"Ginny -."

"Right here, then," she hissed. "Slam me up against this wall and take me, Harry. I want you. I want you forever. I want to have kids with you and grow old with you."

"Oh, Ginny," Harry replied, kissing her more fiercely than before. He felt his resolve fading quickly, and he soon had her pressed up against the wall, just as she had desired.

She suddenly grabbed the shirt of his pyjamas and ripped it open, exposing his chest. She licked and bit at his nipples, causing him to groan. He quickly undid the buttons on her shirt too, exposing a pretty pink bra and Ginny's perfect breasts.

Hermione was relatively flat-chested, but Harry remembered his one, beautiful night with Ginny's perfect breasts. He had once looked at how Hermione's breasts had swollen and gotten bigger when she'd gotten pregnant, and wondered how Neville could be so stupid as to not knock Ginny up so as to at least see those two beauties in even more glory. Ginny seemed utterly delighted as he massaged and kissed at her breasts, and worked to jimmy her knickers out from under her skirt as he occupied himself.

He wished he could stay there all night, but he had something to take care of. He dropped his pyjama bottoms to the ground to expose his erect cock to the cold night air. It was only now he noticed that the front door was still open and Crookshanks IV (the other III had all meet tragic accidents related to several of Ron's children) was watching them. He kicked the door closed and hitched Ginny's skirt up to allow him to penetrate her.

After Hermione had given birth, she had been wide enough that several Harry's could quite happily fit in, but Ginny was as tight as she had been the night in Dumbledore's office. She gave a low, guttural moan that let Harry know this was every bit as amazing for her too.

He began to fuck her slowly, fearing that with eight years out of the game he might not last very long. He focused on the stuff Hermione used to tell him about her work, which helped prevent him from getting over-excited.

"Oh, Harry," Ginny sighed. "It's so... so... amazing." She kissed him. "I can't wait. I can't wait until you cum in me."

"I'm fucking divorcing the bitch in the morning," Harry replied. "It'll just be the two of us. I swear."

"What about -?" Ginny began, but Harry could read her mind.

"Until the kids, of course," Harry said. "But there'll be nine months until they come along." Ginny gasped, as if he'd just hit a particularly sensitive spot of her.

"Tell me about our kids, Harry," she pleaded.

"Well," he grunted as he thrust into her. "I wanted to name my first girl Lily, after my mum, but the bitch wouldn't let me." He wasn't sure why he kept referring to Hermione as "the bitch", but he didn't want to ruin the mood by mentioning her by name. Ginny moaned again.

"Oh, I love that; naming our daughter after someone who's dead. Tell me more."

Harry thought for a moment. "I wanted James' middle name to be Sirius, but we can name our first boy that." Ginny gave an even louder moan. Harry found that he didn't care if Hermione woke up.

"She told me those names were stupid," Harry said. "James Sirius and Lily Luna."

"Merlin, I'm so close," Ginny replied, kissing him again. "I love those names, Harry. I love those stupid, _hot_ names."

Then Harry pulled out his trump card.

"If we have a second boy, we could name him Albus Severus."

This was too much for Ginny, who suddenly let out a massive, continuing scream as her orgasm gripped her. Harry felt the walls of her pussy clamp down upon his cock and found that all the boring crap his wife had told him was not enough anymore. He continued to thrust into Ginny as he emptied eight years of sexual frustration into her womb.

When he was emptied he leant against her. She sobbed into his shoulder.

"Harry, oh God, I love you so much," she sobbed.

"I love you too," Harry replied, kissing her again. This time, however, they were interrupted, and not even by Hermione.

"Daddy, what are you doing to Auntie Ginny?" Rose asked. Harry and Ginny's heads both snapped around to Harry's young daughter. Oh, Hermione would surely murder them both if she found out that Rose had seen them like this; half-naked and with Harry still technically inside Ginny.

Not that she probably wasn't going to kill them anyway.

"Go back to bed, sweetie," Harry said. "I'll explain in the morning."

Rose thankfully took her father's word. Harry, of course, had no intention of explaining anything, and would instead be performing a Memory Charm on his daughter before she woke up in the morning.

He turned to Ginny.

"You know, James' room is empty," Harry said. Ginny gave a wide grin.

"Well, lead the way, Mr Potter," she replied, kissing him on the nose. He hoisted her up and carried her up the stairs in his arms.

It wasn't perfect, but still, it could have been worse. Imagine how bad things would have been if he'd married Luna.


End file.
